


Mouth Of The Devil

by araneae_cobalti



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Vriska Serket has PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 09:55:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18050324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/araneae_cobalti/pseuds/araneae_cobalti
Summary: In the days when they were nights/I would burn just like a firefly/Out of touch, and out of sight/I was wrong, but I was doing it right.We would drink the blood of sleep/We would drink until we couldn't speak/And I could still hear 'em calling to me, baby.--------In which Dave Strider learns a thing or two about a thing or two, most of which he was never intended to see.





	Mouth Of The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually just a part of something bigger that i finally kinda formatted and i MIGHT post it later but im altogether not too sure about all that! a bit stream-of-consciousness cuz its one of my notorious 3am works but lets be real, dave is just kinda the living embodiment of a run-on sentence anyway

The first time you kiss her, she's in the middle of what you can only guess to be some sort of panic attack or whatever dumb slew of words trolls use for that. She's sitting in the corner of some dark unused hallway and you likely would have tripped over her had you not heard her mumbled little mantra from down the hall. Being the chivalrous motherfucker that you are, you decide to see what the hell her deal is and if there's anything you can do to help.   
  
You don't trust her very much, not as far as you can throw her, but all things considered, if she was really as bad the news as everyone made her out to be, you'd probably have stopped yourself right before you even made the turn that brought you to her in the first place. That, and you're pretty jacked, if you do say so yourself, so you’d honestly probably be able to chuck her pretty far. But you're here, and you've been there, in that metaphorical corner, with your knees to your chest and your arms around them. You already know what to expect.   
  
Nothing, though, could have prepared you for the way she trembles, the way her voice warbles like she's speaking underwater--and the way it tugs at something painful right behind your sternum. Kiss me, kill me, kiss me, kill me, over and over and over again, and you just hover there like some creepy asshole, listening to her frantic prayer, a thousand and one words on the tip of your tongue but not a single one safe to say.   
  
So, taking the easy way out, you crouch in front of her, extending a hand, slow as a glacier. You’ve got time, plenty of it, too much even. She just keeps mumbling, not even seeming to notice--or care, perhaps, not even when you finally touch one of her arms. The anxious part of you is relieved she didn't react and another part of you you don’t have a name for is disappointed for some reason you can't quite decipher, but you ignore the strange feeling and scoot closer, tugging on the arm in your hand a few times, getting another fat load of nothing out of her. Calling her name and soft _‘hey, Serket’_ s amount in the same and you're not entirely sure where the hell to go from here because you're sure as shit not about to kill her, but you're also a little put off by the thought of kissing her with the state she’s in right now.   
  
Would it be wrong? Would she resent you for it? Thinking about it rationally, she wouldn't be able to tell anyone even if she _did_ hate it because then she would have to explain why it happened in the first place and you know damn well this wasn’t something anyone was supposed to have even the slightest inkling of at all and that makes you feel even grosser about the idea as a whole. You feel a little wrong watching it, honestly, a metaphorical uncanny valley feeling--you know she’s the troll to end all trolls, an Alternian poster girl, but this shit feels… human.   
  
But what else are you supposed to do? You can't in good conscience leave her here like this, and you can't go get someone else to help--that might not even be able to _anyway_ \--and fuck her over like that, so you do the only thing you can think to do to pull her out of this trance. You kiss her, right on the lips. She freezes and you freeze and those big eyes of hers snap onto your face and lock with yours, even behind your shades, and you wonder for a split second if you've made the wrong decision when she all but bowls you over, kissing you with a fervor that burns white-hot behind your eyes and in your chest and in your gut, her tears wet on your face and her emotions flooding and swallowing your senses like you're the lost city of Atlantis and you're drowning, drowning--


End file.
